


Speechless

by moodiful819



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodiful819/pseuds/moodiful819
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speechless

"You’re awfully quiet."

She says this teasingly, her voice skirting mockery’s hard edge like a ballerina balanced on a blade as a white airy curtain tickles her back. Against the tones of her hair and skin, she looks like she’s floating on clouds, but she was always a picture of heaven. This would be true, even if he hadn’t died enough times to compare.

The feeling of her heel stroking his back brings him from his reverie. Breathless and panting, he is half-pushed, half-forced down to the space between her legs, and is once again eye-level with the source of all his agony and delight. The urge to groan rattles his veins—shakes every fiber and nerve with empty echoes—but his tongue hangs salivating from his mouth, burdening him. He risks choking if he makes any sound, and she knows it.

But it doesn’t stop the haughty arch of her brow as she slides sinfully down the bed and all but pushes herself in his face. 

"What’s the matter?" she coos, spreading herself even wider, exposing herself even more to him as she rolls her hips in a tantalizing circle, "cat got your tongue?"

He’s annoyed. He hates playing this game when he’s this hard—he can feel everything pulled taut in his groin. He feels like he’s about to snap. He has half a mind to glare at her, but it’s hard to stay focused on the anger when there’s another fire raging inside him. He’s not sure where the flush of his cheeks is coming from either, and idly, he watches the quivering twitch of her labia, tickled by his fanning breath.

The silence only lasts as long as his anger—or perhaps it is his patience? She still isn’t always able to tell, but it doesn’t really matter does it? His answer is still to lean forward, nose flush against the bundle of nerves she’d been teasing him with as he licks long, deep curves into her folds—once left, once right—before slipping into her, lapping at her entrance, plucking hungrily at her hole with his tongue.

Pulling away, his lips glisten obscenely as he smiles against her thigh, smug as he feels her spine quiver through her pores, coiled and tense  _but not quite there._

The look in her eyes threatens to melt him on the spot.

"Something like that," he replies before returning back to his duty, her melting marrow sweet on his tongue.


End file.
